


The Avian and the Canine

by madame_alexandra



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 13:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3490793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madame_alexandra/pseuds/madame_alexandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The animal in her is drawn to the animal in him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Avian and the Canine

**Author's Note:**

> a/n - this was originally published elsewhere under the same pen name. it's somewhat metaphysical, i suppose, and a revisitation of the first fandom i ever actually wrote for. you never forget your first, eh?

She told herself – it wasn’t Jean who cheated on Scott so callously: it was _her_. 

It was the woman who whispered in the dark corners of her mind, the woman whose eyes glowed as molten pools of untamable fire when provoked, or aroused, or unleashed; it was the woman who was carnal, primal, unafraid, who anchored her to life in a preternatural way that only old souls and those in touch with the astral plane could understand – no; it wasn’t Jean Grey who stole from the bed of the good guy into the den of the animal – 

It was _her_ – it was Phoenix. 

Jean told herself – she couldn’t reign in the bird of prey and power inside her; she told herself she was in her thrall – but she knew Phoenix answered to Jean and Jean alone: that they were one and the same, two parts of a supernova whole that blazed and boiled and bided time – she was nuclear at the core, animal at heart – sinew and feather and skin and soul – and that power in her soul, that incomprehensible strength and raw evolutionary superiority – it was drawn to others of its kind – and that was who he was – 

Logan, Wolverine – he was brute strength and bared teeth, canine and wild – but there was a balanced tameness to him, too; he was like her, akin to her, controlled on the surface, burning beneath – his mutation kept him alive, adapted him to chance and change – like hers – and he struggled with immortality as she did – his was physical; his life healed effortlessly before his eyes – hers was intangible: she knew in her subconscious something impossibly iron anchored her to this realm, to this earth, something so evolved it was beyond comprehension – beyond the Professor’s, beyond Scott’s –

 _Scott, Scott_ – Scott was soft arms and loving smiles; charm and grace and chivalry – good at heart, good in soul, brave of mind – and yet he feared her: he wanted part of her in a cage, part of her subdued, controlled – not out of chauvinistic maleness but out of worry for her, for her life, for her sanity – Scott did not understand that she was not insane, she was not fragile: Phoenix was dangerous when she was held back, when she was told no, when she wasn’t honed – and used – and satisfied – 

She was like Wolverine; and Phoenix sought Wolverine and Jean knew it was because part of her sought Logan – thus when the Wolverine howled for her, she flew to him – she didn’t know if Scott knew, or if he was ruby blind to the decadence of her affair – but she knew when she was with Logan – when her flames and feathers were in the hands of his rough fur and steely claws – 

She was free. 

She could rake at him, claw him, bite; the wounds of passion healed on him and glistened, bare and naked, begging for more – and he could lick her skin and take her body and give her what Scott was so afraid to awaken: he could make Phoenix burn and shimmer: light up in her stomach, spill through her veins, immolate her from nose to toe – Wolverine didn’t apologize when he knocked her head into the bedframe: he growled – Phoenix didn’t feel guilty when her red hands burned his skin, she screamed with the ethereal pleasure of it – 

In the messy mating ritual between struggling man and woman, caged instincts were freed and the wild things met, and it wasn’t love, it wasn’t affection – not for the animals, for the canine and the avian, but it was liberation, abandon – satisfaction in its most base, sated form – 

She told herself – it was Phoenix – but in her ear, the Wolverine always growled – 

_“Jean.”_

**Author's Note:**

> originally written/published [2014]


End file.
